


Words Left Unsaid

by mommokou1



Category: Z Nation (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-01
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-20 17:31:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3659025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mommokou1/pseuds/mommokou1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short story from the perspective of a girl who knew and admired 10k before the end of the world at the hands of zombies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Z Nation or 10k. My only claim is my OC.

           I had moved into town in the middle of freshman year, it was just one of the many spots my family bounced around to. A new house. A new school. A new town. I thought it would be like all the other places before and in many ways it was, except for him.

            Every day I saw him back before the end of everything. On the walk to school, the bus ride there, we even had the same classes, sometimes when I walked my dog down the street past his house he would be outside working on their truck with his father, but that was it. Always stealing glances when I could to catch a glimpse of his eyes. They were green. The color of the forest after it rains and arguably as stunning. At least they were to me.

            A million times I had imagined what I would say if I ever got the courage to talk to him. I relished the thought of listening to him speak yet like me he wasn't very talkative. I guess that was part of the reason we'd never spoken. The only words we ever exchanged was a simple "Good morning" or "Bye" at the start and conclusion of each day. I doubt he even knew my name even though we walked the same path and lived on the same block his swift strides carried him a distance ahead of what my short legs could muster.

            I remember his smile vividly probably because of how his eyes would light when he did. Every time I saw him he had the same toothy grin it turned that polite smile that I would give reflexively to everyone into a genuine one. All those times I passed right by him I regret most of all. I had a million chances to say something -- to say anything, but I didn't.

            The things I regret the most are all the things I didn't do. Not saying I love you enough to my parents. Not spending time with my little sister. Not taking some time off my studies to have some fun.

            Still, never speaking to him was what I regret the most. Not because he was more important than my family or friends or even because I cared about the boy I didn't even know. I am not sure why maybe it was because when the end of the world came not having the courage to talk to your crush for nearly two years seemed so stupid. Or maybe it was because of the potential of what could have been.

            All those scenarios your plot in your head when you like someone. I can't help, but wonder if I had just been a smidge braver could I have asked him out on a date? Would he have said yes? Would we have went to a movie? Bowling? Mini-golf? Would we have had anything in common? Or nothing at all? Would it have ended there? Or would there be a second date? A third? Maybe even a kiss? My first kiss?

            That's right, I had never gotten one. Had he? Maybe we could have been each other’s first. The thought makes me smile even as I sit here crouched in fear. Hiding like a frightened child amongst the junk piled high in my closet. I can hear the horrible groaning coming from down the hall as I pull my knees up to my chest. Trying to tune out the growls and scratching at the closet door coming from my now undead canine companion.

            I wonder if he made it out with his dad, I hope he did. I hope he is driving past the city limits with this godforsaken town fading in his rearview mirror. That's where I wish I was. Not trapped here. In this dark space with boxes of old junk I couldn't part with stabbing into my back.

            The banging on the door nearly makes me jump out of my skin. Burying my face in my hands I try and muffle my sobs. The pounding only gets louder as more hands join in. I know who it is. My parents. My sister. My grandmother.

            The wood is giving way the loud crack of would echoes through my skull making my teeth chatter. I have to run. I have to get out. I have to live.

            The wood snaps loud as a gunshot, a surge of adrenaline sends me shooting out of closet. I kick the small dog sending him soaring across the room into my mirror. I grab my lamp the roar in my ears drowning out the now fervent growls from the zombies trying to squeeze through the small space at once. Throwing it through the glass I try knocking out the remnants of the shattered window to pass through as the door finally caves in.

            Dead hands grab at my ankles pulling me back I grip the wall tightly half way out kicked wildly at them until I spring free. Falling onto the ground below I clamber to my feet and bolt down the road. Nearing his house I see the car isn't in the drive, tread marks show where they barreled out onto the street.

            My heart sinks as I follow the tracks not knowing where else I can run. Not bothering to hold back my sobs anymore my vision blurs. I don't stop until my knees buckle underneath me. A scream of desperation fades into the night and double over a searing pain shoots through my stomach. With trembling hands I tug at the piece of glass embedded there. Using the last of my strength I pull it free and the blood begins to flow the cool air feels like fire on the wound.

            Turning the stained glass over in my hands I clutch it tightly trying to focus on it as my head swims at the sight of all the blood. I don't know how long I sat there. It felt like years in my mind. In reality it probably wasn't long at all before I lost consciousness.

            Waking up I felt strange. My mind cloudy as I ambled through the streets. I couldn't tell if I was cold or just numb. I didn't understand how I was still moving, I felt so disconnected. I saw them. The zombies. They didn't attack me and I was not afraid anymore.

            I wasn't anything anymore. Not sad. Not mad. Just there. Walking.

            Eventually I spotted a familiar face. It wasn't him. It was his father. He was dead. Lying on the side of the road where someone had dragged him. A couple of undead were gnawing on his rotting flesh. I walked on.

            I don't know how much time passed I could only make out bits and pieces of it in the haze of my mind. The light was blinding it was like the brief moment when your first wake up and look out into the daylight except this never ended. Eventually the only thing that even reached me in the fog was heat. I always disliked when it was hot, yet in the cold numbness I clung to the warmth with everything that I had.

            After what felt like an eternity I saw something. A flicker of green. The kind of green that pushed its way through the piles of gritty snow to remind you that spring was coming. That is exactly what it was like. I focused on the color and suddenly the light wasn't so blinding. I could see. 

            It was him.

            I wanted to cry. This time from happiness. I had found him. It wasn't too late. I could say all the words I couldn't say before. Yet when I opened my mouth no words came out. Only an odd noise, a gurgling almost.

            Then I realized something was wrong. He wasn't smiling at me like he always had. His mouth was set in a grim line, his warm bright eyes were cold and dark locked with mine. He held a rifle aimed at me and that is when I knew.

            I was dead. No. I was worse. I was undead.

            I felt something inside me shatter. It was over. My life was over. I was a monster. A mindless flesh eating monster.

            No, not mindless. I wished I was. Maybe that was why they were. To have a mind like this was a nightmare. I wanted to go back into the fog and disappear forever. I wanted to never think again.

            Kill me. Please. Kill me.

            Still no words came. As I stood there his brow furrowed slightly as he angled the gun then he spoke.

            "Sienna Villanueva," Even though I couldn't show it hearing my name gave me more happiness than he would ever know. "I give you mercy. Good-Bye."

            _'Good-Bye Tommy.'_ Never having the courage to say more to him will always be my biggest regret, because then I could have loved him for more than just a moment. _'Thank you.'_  

            I never saw that warm smile again. Those green eyes were the last thing I ever saw. Though if you had to die wouldn't you want the last thing to be something beautiful too?


	2. Alt Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternate ending to my original one shot.

I had moved into town in the middle of freshman year, it was just one of the many spots my family bounced around to. A new house. A new school. A new town. I thought it would be like all the other places before and in many ways it was, except for him.

            Every day I saw him back before the end of everything. On the walk to school, the bus ride there, we even had the same classes, sometimes when I walked my dog down the street past his house he would be outside working on their truck with his father, but that was it. Always stealing glances when I could to catch a glimpse of his eyes. They were green. The color of the forest after it rains and arguably as stunning. At least they were to me.

            A million times I had imagined what I would say if I ever got the courage to talk to him. I relished the thought of listening to him speak yet like me he wasn't very talkative. I guess that was part of the reason we'd never spoken. The only words we ever exchanged was a simple "Good morning" or "Bye" at the start and conclusion of each day. I doubt he even knew my name even though we walked the same path and lived on the same block his swift strides carried him a distance ahead of what my short legs could muster.

            I remember his smile vividly probably because of how his eyes would light when he did. Every time I saw him he had the same toothy grin it turned that polite smile that I would give reflexively to everyone into a genuine one. All those times I passed right by him I regret most of all. I had a million chances to say something -- to say anything, but I didn't.

            The things I regret the most are all the things I didn't do. Not saying I love you enough to my parents. Not spending time with my little sister. Not taking some time off my studies to have some fun.

            Still, never speaking to him was what I regret the most. Not because he was more important than my family or friends or even because I cared about the boy I didn't even know. I am not sure why maybe it was because when the end of the world came not having the courage to talk to your crush for nearly two years seemed so stupid. Or maybe it was because of the potential of what could have been.

            All those scenarios your plot in your head when you like someone. I can't help, but wonder if I had just been a smidge braver could I have asked him out on a date? Would he have said yes? Would we have went to a movie? Bowling? Mini-golf? Would we have had anything in common? Or nothing at all? Would it have ended there? Or would there be a second date? A third? Maybe even a kiss? My first kiss?

            That's right, I had never gotten one. Had he? Maybe we could have been each other’s first. The thought makes me smile even as I sit here crouched in fear. Hiding like a frightened child amongst the junk piled high in my closet. I can hear the horrible groaning coming from down the hall as I pull my knees up to my chest. Trying to tune out the growls and scratching at the closet door coming from my now undead canine companion.

            I wonder if he made it out with his dad, I hope he did. I hope he is driving past the city limits with this godforsaken town fading in his rearview mirror. That's where I wish I was. Not trapped here. In this dark space with boxes of old junk I couldn't part with stabbing into my back.

            The banging on the door nearly makes me jump out of my skin. Burying my face in my hands I try and muffle my sobs. The pounding only gets louder as more hands join in. I know who it is. My parents. My sister. My grandmother.

            The wood is giving way the loud crack of would echoes through my skull making my teeth chatter. I have to run. I have to get out. I have to live.

            The wood snaps loud as a gunshot, a surge of adrenaline sends me shooting out of closet. I kick the small dog sending him soaring across the room into my mirror. I grab my lamp the roar in my ears drowning out the now fervent growls from the zombies trying to squeeze through the small space at once. Throwing it through the glass I try knocking out the remnants of the shattered window to pass through as the door finally caves in.

            Dead hands grab at my ankles pulling me back I grip the wall tightly half way out kicked wildly at them until I spring free. Falling onto the ground below I clamber to my feet and bolt down the road. Nearing his house I see the car isn't in the drive, tread marks show where they barreled out onto the street.

            My heart sinks as I follow the tracks not knowing where else I can run. Not bothering to hold back my sobs anymore my vision blurs. I don't stop until my knees buckle underneath me. A scream of desperation fades into the night.

            The first night was the hardest. I’d never had to fend for myself before that day. Not like that.

            Holing up in a neighbor’s house who’d went on vacation before all this madness. I knew no one would be inside. I stayed until there wasn’t any food left. Then I scavenged every house on the block. Eventually I had to fight. Somehow I managed.

            I went back home to say good-bye. That was the hardest thing I’d ever done. Freeing them. Ending them.

            There were plenty of things left behind from weapons to tools. No one living left to lay claim to it. I knew the neighborhood like the back of my hand. Soon even the zombies became just another part of my daily routine until even they left. The cold sent them running and the town was abandoned.

            I was alone.

            It felt like I was there for years but I knew it had just been weeks. A couple of the maimed creatures would wander through and I’d pick them off. After that first night the only things I ever felt were numb and fear. When one became to much I gave in to the other. My fear kept me paralyzed unable to abandon the only home I ever knew and the numbness allowed me to move through my routine existence. Find food. Secure shelter. Sleep. Repeat.

            The only break from it was the moments I sat with a gun in my hands to contemplate if I should just end it. Every time I felt myself inch just a bit closer to following through as the fear dwindled and numbness spread.

            The crack of a gunshot rang out in the distance and I nearly jumped out of my skin. Waiting for my legs to stop shaking enough to stand I peered out the window. Bang.

            Lurching back I walked in a circle not knowing what to do or where to go. Clearly it was survivors. Probably encountering some wandering zombies.

            They were likely looking for food and weapons. If there was more than one I was screwed. Hell if they were above average in strength and size they could still overpower me. They had a gun and were clearly better at using it than I was with my shitty depth perception. I emptied an entire clip not nailing one shot on my first zombie before having to resort to knifing the damn thing.

I knew I could hide until they passed but then I would be alone again.

What if they were good people? I could go with them. I could live. I could survive.

Looking at the pistol on the floor I steeled myself. Nodding I knew I what I would do.

If they killed me so be it. That’s where I was headed on my own. On the off chance they were decent people than maybe just maybe I could find a new purpose in this world.

Gearing up I made my way through the back alleys. Sneaking around my carefully crafted hiding spots as I followed the noise. They were coming this way from the main streets. They were likely coming from the market.

My heart pounded in my chest once I began hearing approaching footsteps. Quickly I ducked into the nearest yard through the loosened board I had ready for concealment. Peering through the hole in the wood I watched their approach.

The dark dingy clothes, untamed black locks, and dusted with dirt I almost didn’t recognize him and when I did I couldn’t believe it. It was him. It was him.

            _It was him._

            I wanted to cry. This time from happiness. I had found him. It wasn't too late. I could say all the words I couldn't say before.

            On my feet and through the fence before I consciously thought about moving I froze when he aimed the gun at me. His eyes wide searching my face for a moment before lowering his weapon.

            “Tommy?” I murmured still unsure until his mouth pulled into that familiar grin. Then I was running headlong into him half expecting to fall through like a mirage laughing like mad when I met with something solid.

            I held on to him tightly feeling his arms wrap tightly around me. We laughed and when that faded we stood in silence for a long moment until another undead came ambling along charging with that horribly gurgling growl.

            Releasing him quickly before I could even reach for my weapon he’d already drawn his weapon putting a bullet it in its head. Gaping I looked over at him to which he shrugged sheepishly.

            “We should get somewhere safe.”

            “I know a place.”

            Shuffling around the kitchen to get him something to eat he stood in the living room running his fingers over a picture frame. “This was Mr. Dugan’s house.”

            “It was. Him and his family. They’re gone now.”

            “You gave them mercy?”

            “Mercy?”

            “Killed them when they turned.”

            “Yeah. I guess I did.” Pouring the water into the glass I shook my head. “It didn’t feel like I was being merciful though.”

            “You did what you had to there’s no shame in that.” He rested his forearms on the counter dividing us. “The way things are now, we just have to do the best we can.”

            “How are you so calm after dealing with one of those things? It’s terrifying and you don’t seem phased at all.” Sliding the plate over to him I smiled gently trying to figure him out. Our first real conversation and it was definitely nowhere close to how I imagined it.

            “Lots of practice I guess.” Taking a bite of the sandwich he paused before taking a couple more until his cheeks were bulging. “That was 700 for me.”

            “Seven hundred?”

            He nodded.

            “Seven hundred _zombies_?” I could hear a buzzing in my ears as my mind struggled to grasp the number. Our town was miniscule doubtful it even had that many people at its peak. The idea of killing a town’s population worth of zombies was terrifying. I wonder if I’d even ended twenty of them. “Why?”

            “I am trying to kill ten thousand.” He looked up his green eyes sparkling curiously, “How do you have bread?”

            Watching him clear his plate I raised a brow, “There’s a lot of farmland around here. I may not be able to maintain the whole things but I try and keep up with a few essentials. Grams used to insist everything be made from scratch. Guess all her old-fashioned stuff came in handy. Just don’t have no meat.”

            He nodded shifting slightly in his seat.

            I remembered that I had so much to say but even now I couldn’t get the words out. “What are you doing here Tommy?”     

            Stiffening on his perch he cleared his throat. “I, uh, came back to see if there were survivors.”

            “You and your dad didn’t really interact much with everyone and well this has never been the friendliest of towns. I didn’t think that you’d care enough to come back for these people.”

            “I didn’t.”

            I blinked tilting my head in question.

            “Just wanted to see if, uh, you made it out alive.” Clearing his throat he tapped the counter lightly as he spoke. “I lost my dad. I don’t have anyone and I remembered you. You were always nice I guess I hoped I might find you and we could survive…together.”

            “This the most I’ve ever heard you speak.” I grinned, “You should do it more.”

            He scratched his head shoulders dropping slightly.

I didn’t know for how long I would be able to be with him but I knew at the very least I wouldn’t be alone. This time I would get it right. This time I wouldn’t waste any time. Even if he didn’t feel like I did at this point I had nothing else to lose.

            Reaching over I laid a hand over his. Green eyes that caught light like the ocean waves stared back curious cheeks reddening slightly at the contact.

            “Yes.” I nodded, “I’ll survive with you.”

            There it was, that warm smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Per request of a few friends and a reader DarknessEvernight13 here is an alternate happier ending to my original one shot. I apologize it took me so long to getting around to it but since I decided to catch up on season 3 I was finally inspired to do so.


End file.
